


i didnt know i was broken until i wanted a change

by shutupimshakira (Sniperdoodle)



Series: i wanna get better [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beast Island, Because I can, Character Development, F/F, Magicats, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Romance, Slow burn EVERYTHING, bc theres no way that this is gonna happen in s3, catra get sent to beast island and discovers magicast n shit, gracious references to fictional cats, mainly to cats the musical, slow burn acceptance, slow burn character development, slow burn family, world-building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-05-18 09:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19331872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sniperdoodle/pseuds/shutupimshakira
Summary: As a consequence for losing Shadow Weaver, Catra receives her punishment: an exclusive, one-way trip to Beast Island.Beast Island is as dangerous as the legends say, but there's something hidden underneath the horrors of the island above. Something . . . that may just reveal secrets about herself that Catra didn't know existed.Who are the Magicats? Why do the Queens trust her so much? And why does Catra feel an intrinsic draw to the caves of Half Moon?





	1. if you want it youre gonna bleed but thats the price to pay

**Author's Note:**

> I love the fics where Catra finds the family she never knew she had and heals, so I figured I'd try my hand at it. The first chapter is pretty short but we'll get into the nitty-gritty soon.
> 
> The fic title comes from the Bleacher's I Wanna Get Better, and the chapter title comes from Guns N' Roses Welcome to the Jungle. 
> 
> Also, warning, I came up with a lot of world-building for Magicats society, based off of the two She-Ra Wikipedia pages I've read. I also read other Wikipedia pages, but lists of fictional cats so beware of . . . intentional Cats the Musical reference and unintentional Warrior Cats reference. I swear this is more serious than I'm currently making this out to be. 
> 
> Well, my ramblings aside, I hope you enjoy!

     So, this was really happening.

     Catra tries to not throw-up as the boat swayed, focusing on the smooth lines of the cell surrounding her. She starts counting titles for the umpteenth times when there's a jolt across the ship that sends her sprawling on the floor of her cell.

     "Get up."

     Catra looks up at the two, faceless Horde soldiers she once-up until recently-had command over and contemplates spitting on them. Her body protests, but she manages to push herself up onto her knees. The soldiers must've thought she was taking too long, and grab her by her shoulders before dragging her out of the brig. Catra lets her body go limp just to make it harder for them.

     The dark grays of the ship pass by quickly as she's brought up to the deck. The sun blinds her after days of being stuck in that little cell, and she barely has time to adjust before she's weightless. The soldiers throw her over the side of the boat and she lands in the sand unceremoniously.

     Catra manages to sit up just in time to see the Horde ship push away from the shore, back out into the sea and back to the Fight Zone. She flops back into the sand and stares up at the sky. It's a perfect blue and completely empty of clouds, so perfect it's almost like the universe is mocking her.

     So, she wasn't the perfect second-in-command. Sue her. It's a hard fucking job, and even though she did more than Shadow Weaver ever did, Hordak decided to get rid of her for one slip up.

     Well, it was a pretty big slip up. She doesn't know where Shadow Weaver is, but she knows that the bitch definitely is _not_ on Beast Island.

     Because that's where Catra is right now.

     The thought manages to shock Catra into the action. She really is on Beast Island. The ultimate punishment for any traitorous Horde soldiers ( _like her_ ). If she doesn't kick her ass into gear, she is as good as dead.

     She wills herself to stand up. Her body screams at her, begging for her to lay down in the sand and just give up, but she can't. Whatever Hordak did to her did a number on her body, and she has to be extra careful in her weakened state.

     So Catra just starts walking, following the shoreline as she tries to come up with a plan. The sun seems high enough in the sky that she has a good bit of time to find shelter for the night, but she doesn't seem to be going very fast right now. She may as well keep moving forward as she thinks.

     To her left, there's the ocean. Not much to do there. Ocean water makes you sick. She could try and make a raft to sail back out, but she was kept in a windowless room for four days in the Horde's fastest ship. She doubts there's much of anything near-by Beast Island.

     In front of her is more sand. Lots and lots of sand. Oh, how she hates sand. There's not much she could do there. Maybe figure out how to fish from the shoreline, grab some materials from the near-by forest to build a quick shelter. However, there's no cover out here, and she'd be an easy target for the beasts.

     To her right is the jungle. The sand quickly turns into a dense forest, with trees looming overhead and dark undergrowth containing the terrible beasts. But, if she's smart she could hide from the them, maybe stay to the trees but then again, she doesn't know much of anything about the beasts other than that, well . . . they are scary fucking monster. It would have more cover than the beach, though. And the forest could have food in the form of berries or small animals the beasts eat.

     Catra's stomach grumbles. The forest it is.

     She slowly steps through the tree line, treading carefully so as to not step on a twig or kick a pebble. Staying close to the shore, she carefully surveys the area before every step, probably being way too wary, but she can't afford it. Her life is on the line.

     She listens for a scurry of feet, a snap of a twig, or the low growling of a monster a thousand times bigger than her. She watches out for bright spots of color, of fur or of fruit, in the dark greens of the jungle. As the sun gets lower in the sky, Catra hasn't seen much of either, which is equal parts good and equal parts bad. Catra decides to head further into the island for the chance of something to eat.

     And of course, that plans goes to shit as quickly as possible.

     The sun is setting behind her, the shadows growing long. She's used to the dark, and it doesn't bother her as much, but she makes one mistake and slips. She falls as the ground gives out beneath her and she hits the dirt as she slides down a deep incline.

     She hits the bottom, hard, one leg slamming up against a rock jutting out of the ground. It feels like it just shattered into a million little pieces, and she can't help but cry out in pain as it impacts. She hisses and clutches her leg, but that doesn't really help. She manages to look at it and uh, it shouldn't be bending that way.

     Catra's dealt with worse pain, pain like her best friend leaving for a bunch of idiots in the rebellion. A broken leg wouldn't be too bad. She tries to stand up, clawing at a tree trunk as she gets herself straight. As soon as she stands her leg bumps the ground and she cries again, slumping on the forest floor.

     Catra looks up at the trees, vaguely making out the lines of leaves in the dark of the night sky. Maybe she can just lie here for a while, cover herself with some leaves, survive the night and deal with her leg in the morning.

     _Crrrrrrrrrrrr . . ._

     She here's a low hum, more like a chittering sound than a growl. The forest shifts as a large mass pushes through the foliage, it's colorful hind sticking out against the dark greens of the forest. It's a mess of bright green fur with yellow stripes, and Catra can't make out a head or tail in the dark, but she knows one thing for certain: it's one of the legendary beasts of Beast Island.

     She does her best to lay still, not even breathing, hoping it goes away. But the chittering stops and it spins around on a dime. She can see its ugly mug a few yards away from her.

     It has red eyes with stringy green fur draping over from a protruded brow, a squished nose surrounded by wrinkles, a drooling maw with rows of sharp white teeth. It's about seven-feet tall, not as tall as She-Ra but tall enough to be menacing, and it certainly is scaring the shit out of Catra right now.

     Adrenaline kicks in and Catra's able to ignore her wounded leg as she tries to scramble away from the beast. She's trapped in a corner, the steep incline she fell down minutes ago to her back and the beast pinning her in. She uses her claws to grab onto the dirt, pulling herself up despite her muscles begging her to give up. She doesn't look back, just forward, she seems so close-

     The trees bend over and break with a crack as heavy paws stomp on the forest floor, crushing the brambles. She's slammed against the mountain as the beast knocks into her. She narrowly misses its jaw but gets smashed by its protruding forehead.

     She loses her grip and falls to the ground underneath its feet. The adrenaline can't combat the pain she's in, and she slowly starts to succumb to it as the beast stands above her. She starts to black out as it rakes one clawed paw across her body, as if it's playing with its prey.

            She almost thinks she hears voices in the distance as everything goes black.


	2. am i dead or am i dreaming am i underneath the ocean or are my eyes just streaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra wakes up, despite all signs pointing to her never waking up again the last time she closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from The Weirdest Dream, from the Lightning Thief Musical
> 
> I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter! A quick descent into what will be a whole load of world-building!

_"There's a Magicat there! Quick, she's-!"_

_"-I've never seen her before, not around Half-"_

_"-She kinda looks like the Queen, am I-"_

_"-Get her to-!"_

_"She was attacked by a beast-"_

_"-She's in a bad way, I don't know-"_

_"-Looks so much like her-"_

_"-She hasn't woken up-"_

_"-Can't get our hopes up-"_

_"-Getting worried-"_

_"Sleep well, kitten."_

 

 

     Catra wakes up in pain. It shouldn't be a surprise; the last thing can recall clearly is being attack by the beast. Well, at least she now knows for certain why it's called 'Beast Island'. Everything from that point though is . . . a blur. She recalls distant voices, like they were eons away, and only remembers fragments.

     She wills her eyes to open and looks around the room she's in. It's a cavern of some kind, with a chiseled-out hole across from her bed letting in moonlight. It's dark, asides from a short candle with a light that's barely holding on. It looks like there's a couple other beds here and cabinets, but she's the only one here. She tries to sit up, but cries out in pain as her muscle protest and bandages strain against her skin.

     "Oh scat, you're awake! Don't move!"

     Catra's head whips around to the entrance, and a young woman enters. She's shorter than Catra, and could possibly be a bit younger than her. She's wearing a white robe over plain clothes, has a pair of glasses perched on her head, and looks completely average. Well, she's covered with brown fur, has a mane of hair tied back into a messy pony tail, and alert ears. She looks a lot like Catra.

     Catra's never seen anyone like herself.

     "No really," she walks over to Catra and carefully pushes her back down. Catra's so shocked, she doesn't even protest. "You need to be laying down or else you're going to reopen your wounds. It's a good thing you're awake but you still need more rest and-"

     The girl looks Catra in the eyes, and her own eyes widen as she loses her train of thought. Catra manages to get enough sense about her to hiss, "What are you looking at?"

     "I, uh," the girl quickly looks around. "I need to get Ri'ta."

     Before Catra can questions anything that's going on, the girl scurries out of the room.

     Catra huffs and stares at the ceiling, trying to figure out everything that's happened the last couple seconds.

     Somehow, she's not dead. That beast should've killed her, she was utterly defenseless and not in a position to fight. But she's alive, patched up, on the mend, thanks to someone. Someone, who happens to look like her.

     A few minutes later, the same girl comes back in, towing behind two older women-who are also both cat people.

     One of them is a warrior, Catra can just tell by how she's built. She's lean and strong, and probably could take on Scorpia if she so chooses. Her fur is a dark orange and mane is absent, cut down to keep out of the way, Catra assumes. One eye is a bright blue, but the other is kept shut by a long scar trailing down her face. She's wearing a night robe, but seemed to have found time to grab a sword that's holstered on a belt around her waist.

     The second one is a bit shorter than the first, and doesn't seem to be as intimidating. Her fur is blonde with dark brown strips, and her mane is kept long. It's a bit ruffled and bushy, probably by sleep, but she doesn't seem to care about that. She's wearing a blue robe over a night gown, and is keeping one hand tucked inside her robe.

     The original girl has stayed behind as the two older woman approach Catra, surprise on both of their faces. Catra doesn't like to be gawked at like she's some sideshow freak, so she hisses, "Okay, what are you looking at? I look like you all, there's no reason to be weird."

     "Oh, my apologizes," the blonde-furred woman recovers first. "We weren't . . . expecting you to wake up so soon, especially after the injuries you sustained from getting attacked by the beast."

     "Uh . . . yes," the orange-furred woman coughs, but Catra can tells there's something fishy. They don't give her time to point that out, as she continues, "Allow us to introduce ourselves. I'm C'yra, and this is my lovely wife Ri'ta. We're the . . . leaders of Half Moon."

     "And the girl who came to get us is Shire, my apprentice," Ri'ta continues. "You are?"

     "Catra," Catra's not a big fan of giving out information to people she's just met. She wants some answers first, "What the fuck is going on here? Where am I? Why are you all . . . cat people like me?"

     "I supposed you're a cat person because you were born that way, like the rest of us," Ri'ta points out with an amused smile.

     "Please dear, I doubt now is the time for sarcasm," C'yra rolls her eyes, but has a soft smile on her face. She sits down on the bed adjacent to Catra's own. "You're in Half Moon, the safe haven for Magicats, like us, underneath the island."

     "Wait, we're _under_ Beast Island?" Catra checks.

     "It's the safest place, ever since the Horde attacked," C'yra reveals. "We lived above ground before the Horde found Purrsia, and their attacks caused me to lead our people underground."

     "Uhm . . ." Catra looks around, awkwardly. She probably shouldn't mention that she's with the Horde. Or, was with the Horde. Catra's not quite sure what's going on with that, but after being suffocated by Hordak and condemned to die on Beast Island, she's got a pretty good feeling that she's not in his good graces.

     "Yes, we know you're a Horde soldier," C'yra leans over and grabs something off the night stand. She flashes it to Catra, it's her force captain badge. C'yra gets colder as she examines the badge, "A force captain, to be correct. Usually we don't see someone of your rank here. It's even less likely to see a Magicat with the Horde. Would you like to explain what you did to get you sentenced here? And how you ended up with the Horde?"

     "Pissed Hordak off, and dunno, I've been with the Horde my whole life," Catra simply says. She doesn't need to get into her multiple failures. She would really rather not think about that right now. "So, do you take in all the Horde soldiers you find getting ripped apart by a beast?"

     "No, usually they're left to die," C'yra states. "But, you're a Magicat. You're an exception."

     "I'm still a Horde soldier!" Catra spits.

     "Can take the girl of the Fright Zone, but not the Fight Zone out of the girl?" Ri'ta guesses, she still has a small smile on her face despite the direction of the conversation. Catra just glares at her.

     C'yra grips the badge, "The Horde assumes you're dead, and you're too injured to do anything. However, you are more than welcome to stay here, in Half Moon. I figure the Horde never told you about the Magicats, or true history of this island, once known as Purrsia."

     Catra turns her glare to C'yra, crossing her arms despite it hurting to do so.

     C'yra sighs and puts the badge down, "Aren't you curious about your origins? Where you came from? Who you are? There are no other Magicat colonies anywhere in Etheria, only here. I assume the Horde took you during the Invasion, there's no other way."

     Catra frowns but says, "Well, you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat."

     Catra hopes that would shut her up, but Ri'ta had a counter, "Yes, and satisfaction brought it back. The Horde probably didn't tell you that there was a second part."

     Catra glares at Ri'ta again.

     Ri'ta sighs and stands besides C'yra, placing a hand on her shoulder, "If you insist on being stubborn-" for some reason, Ri'ta shoots C'yra a look, "-Then at least stay until you're fully healed. You won't be able to tackle the beasts if you don't."

     Catra looks between the two leaders. This is probably the worse she's ever been hurt, and usually she's good at covering that up but Ri'ta has a point. That beast was worse than She-Ra. She needed to be at peak condition to survive on Beast Island, where other Horde soldiers have failed.

     The plan is already forming in her mind. Use the Magicats to fix her back up. Start patrolling the island, around where she was dropped off. The next time the Horde ships someone to Beast Island, she jumps on board and takes it over. She then goes back to the main land, group back up with Scorpia, and finds a way to prove herself to Hordak, or at least overthrow the bastard. Probably something to do with She-Ra.

     "Ah, she's scheming," Ri'ta says to C'yra, pulling Catra out of her thoughts, causing C'yra to chuckle.

     Catra's ears flatten and she hisses, "I'm just thinking my options over!"

     "Alright, and what do you think?" C'yra asks.

     Catra pauses, "How long until I'm fine?"

     "Shire has been the one over-seeing your recovery," Ri'ta reveals. She turns to her apprentice, who was still in the back corner. "What do you think?"

     "Oh!" Shire's surprised to have been brought up. "Uh . . . let's see, between the broken ribs and leg . . . I'd say seven or so more weeks. That's if she follows instructions to a T and doesn't strain herself."

     "Then I'll be the best patient you've ever had," Catra promises. Seven weeks would be a long time, but she could do it, bide her time and fortify her plan.

     "Then it's settled," C'yra stands up and places a hand on Catra's shoulder, "Welcome to Half Moon, Catra. I truly do hope you enjoy your stay."

     Catra brushes C'yra's hand off, "I won't."

     C'yra is ready to leave, but Ri'ta is finalizing a few things with Shire, "If you need to go and get rest yourself, just send Gar in. I know she's not as good as healing magic as you, but she can handle any complications. Alright?"

     "Yes ma'am," Shire nods her heads with a smile on her face. "Have a good night."

     "You too, get some sleep," Ri'ta pats Shire on the shoulder. She turns to Catra, and with a soft smile adds, "Sleep well, kitten."

     Catra doesn't say anything as Ri'ta turns around and joins her wife, the two leaving the room. Catra feels like she's heard that before, and though she usually doesn't like being called kitten, it made her feel . . . warm.

     Shire closes the door and turns to Catra, "You need to go to sleep. Your body needs all the rest it can get to aid in your recovery."

     "What if I'm not tired?" Catra asks, her smartass ways kicking in not ten minutes after she promised to be a model patient. Well, ain't that just the way?

     "You want something to knock you out?" Shire opens up a cupboard, and in the low light Catra can see various bottles of dark liquid. She picks up one and swirls it around, and it appears to be a dark purple, "This one tastes like scat, and it's only purpose is to knock people out."

     "Any that taste good?" Catra checks.

     Shire pauses for a moment, "Nope, they all pretty much taste like scat."

     "Fine, give it here."

     Shire pours a small cup-about the size of a shot glass-and hands it to Catra. Catra downs it in one, and it somehow manages to taste worse than the slop the Horde fed her. She hands the cup back over as she wipes her mouth and lies down in bed.

     "So, when's this thing supposed to kick in?"

     "Give it a moment."

     ". . . oh, shit."

     "Told you so. Good night."

     Catra barely has time to think as her eyes close. The medicine quickly pulls her into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate all who commented, and leave a comment with your thoughts below! 
> 
> Next time, Catra learns more about the place she's stuck in for the next seven or so weeks.


	3. i never thought i'd live to see the day when everybody's words got in the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra learns just a bit more about Half Moon and meets a few of it's inhabitants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter title is from Everybody Talks, by Neon Trees.
> 
> So, I guess just as a warning, I'm going to try to update this once every week for as long as I can. I'm a college student working two jobs, and I've got the first five chapters written so hopefully I can stay ahead of the curve. If not, oh well.
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a bit of a long one!

     When Catra wakes up, sun is streaming thrown the small window in the infirmary. She blinks and tries to move her arm to rub the sleep out of her eyes, but something is weighing down on it. She glances to her side, where a kid is leaning on her arm and staring right at her.

     "You're finally awake!" the brown-furred kit exclaims. "By Saz, you were asleep for soooo long!"

     Catra's about to shoo the kid away, when Shire enters the room and comes to her rescue. She marches over, grabs the kid by the scruff of her neck, and pulls her away, "N'yan! I told you could come with me only if you followed my instructions! And what did I say?"

     N'yan sighs, "Leave Catra alone."

     "And what were you doing?"

     "Not leaving Catra alone."

     "Good," Shire lets go of N'yan. "Go into the other room. You're not allowed back in here until I say so."

     "You're no fun," N'yan huffs as she kicks the ground and walks to a doorway that's squeezed into the narrow passageway into the infirmary. Catra didn't notice it last night, but that's probably where Shire has been spending her time.

     "I'm so sorry," Shire sighs. "My aunt asked me to watch my cousin today because she doesn't have classes, so we're stuck with her. But how'd you sleep? It sounded like you rested well.”

     "Best sleep I've gotten in a long time," Catra sighs. It's sadly true. Since Adora left the Horde . . . she really does not need to think about that right now. She decides to move on, "Can I sit up, or am I stuck laying her like a fucking log?"

     "Let me help you," Shire insists. She grabs a couple extra pillows and helps Catra get into a sitting position. Catra notices how sore her chest and ribs feel, as well as how stiff her leg is.

     "So, what damage did that beast do to me?" Catra tries to evaluate everything, but it all just feels sore.

     Shire has moved away to the other side of the room, preparing something with leaves and spices in a wooden bowl, "Five broken ribs, a broken leg, a plethora of cuts and bites, but the worst one was across your stomach. So, overall, you need to be very careful."

     Shire crosses the room, carrying a wooden cup and hands it to Catra, "This'll help with the soreness. You have to drink it before eating something, though."

     Catra takes it, greedy for anything to dull the pain, even if it knocks her out again. She polishes it off and hands the cup back to Shire, "So, I heard something about food?"

     "Yeah, my aunt promised to bring something her-for all three of us-she's the head cook," Shire reveals. She continues to move around the room, cleaning up messes and creating new ones, "She's really good. Ri'ta also may be stopping by? I don't know, I don't think I'm going to be able to make my lessons today so, who knows. Uh, not me, obviously."

     "What does Ri'ta even teach you?" Catra questions as her stomach rumbles. She hopes food gets here soon.

     "Uh, magic," Shire says.

     Catra freezes up. She wonders if that's what happened last night, that feeling she felt was some type of spell Ri'ta cast on her. If it was magic, though, why did it feel so good? Magic only hurt, like anything Shadow Weaver did to her, ever.

     Shire doesn't know that Catra's on the verge of panic, and just keeps talking.

     "She's really great, the best magician here and she's from the M'stoff'lls clan so I guess that explains that, but she's a battle mage and not a healing mage so I have to learn a lot of the spells on my own. She helps, at least," Shire rambles.

     Catra wants to change the subject, desperately. She tries, "Aren't there any other healers here?"

     "Most of them were killed during the Horde Invasion," Shire bluntly says. "Like my parents."

     Catra's eyes go wide. This is not the topic change she wanted. She still can't help but wonder, "So why are you helping me?"

     "One, because Ri'ta told me too," Shire lists. She walks back over to Catra, carrying a tray of bandages. "Lift up your shirt, I need to change the bandages. And two, my parents always said that a healer does not do harm unto others."

     Catra's silent as Shire changes the bandages. The bandages appear to just be protecting the stitches that rake across her skin, but there is some oozing. Catra's never gotten a wound this bad back at the Horde, but has seen plenty of others with wounds like this.

     Shire finishes changing the bandages, and stays quiet for once. Catra doesn't say anything either but her stomach growls every once and a while.

     The door to the infirmary creaks open, and Catra winces as Ri'ta's voice calls, "Shire, can you give me hand?"

     Shire sighs as she walks over, "Not funny."

     "No, I actually do need help if you want to eat," Ri'ta says as she steps in. Her one arm is still tucked inside a robe, but this robe is blue with golden trim and looks more formal than the one she had on last night. She's carrying a large basket with a fabric covering the top, "Jen'dots got caught up with a . . . certain someone sneaking into the kitchen, so I offered to bring it by."

     "Oh, thank-you!" Shire finishes washing her hands and walks over to the basket. She takes the cover off, and the scent of food hits Catra in the face. She almost considers climbing out of bed, but that would strain her wounds and set back her recovery.

     Shire begins to takes out plates and set up the meal, and calls out, "N'yan, you can come out if you want to eat!"

     "Foooooood!" N'yan calls as she runs out of the corner room at a full sprint. She almost runs into Ri'ta, but stops on a dime, "Oh, hi Queen Ri'ta!"

     "Queen?" Catra questions, as no one mentioned anything about the leader of Half Moon being queens but she guesses it makes sense, and is ignored by everyone in the room.

     "Hello N'yan," Ri'ta puts on the same soft smiles she had last night. "How are you today?"

     "Well, Shire's being mean-"

     "I told you not to annoy the patient!" Shire argues.

     "I wasn't!"

     Ri'ta chuckles, "Sounds like everything's going as it usually does. Now N'yan, have you been practicing the spell I taught you?"

     "Oh yeah!" N'yan says. She brings her hands together and Catra waits for an explosion or something to lash out, but instead there's just a small orb of light floating above N'yan's palms.

     "Good job," Ri'ta says as she ruffles N'yan hair. N'yan makes a face and the light orb goes out.

     "Hey, ya made me loose concentration!" N'yan says.

     "Then it seems like you better keep practicing," Ri’ta points out. "And once you do that, I'll teach you another one."

     "Sweet!" N'yan says as she runs over to Shire. "Did Mom make this?"

     "Yeah," Shire hands her cousin a plate. "Would you like to eat with us?"

     "No, I gotta practice!" N'yan claims. She grabs the plate and sprints back towards the corner room.

     "Be careful!" Shire shouts, but it sounds like it goes unheeded. Shire sighs and grabs a tray from another cabinet, puts a full plate of food on it, and lays it across Catra's lap, "Here you go."

     Catra waits a second, smelling the food and making sure it wasn't poisoned. Shire has already started eating her own meal, so Catra assumes that it's safe for her to eat as well.

     "So," Ri'ta turns to Catra just as she starts to eat. "How are you feeling today?"

     "F'n," Catra says with her mouth full. This food was the best thing she's ever tasted, it was some kind of meat but it had flavor? Flavors she's never tasted before, because all the Horde has is gross rations. She forgoes asking questions and proceeds to shove the rest of her plate into her mouth.

     "Hey! Slow down or you'll choke!" Shire warns her, but Catra's too busy eating to care. She sighs and goes back to her own food, "So, are we going to have our lesson today?"

     "Of course," Ri'ta says.

     "But," Shire glances over to Catra and doesn't say anything. Catra just glares back.

     "I was going to ask Gar to come in, but Busto offered to watch her while we go to the library," Ri'ta reveals.

     Shire almost spits her food out, and Catra raises an eyebrow, "What? Are we thinking of the same Busto?"

     "Well, I'm talking about Captain Bust'fer of Bo'ots," Ri'ta checks, smiling. "Second to General Az'al?"

     "Why would he want to watch over Catra?" Shire questions.

     "Well, he was on the patrol that found her, I suppose he wants to make sure that she's okay," Ri'ta guesses. "He also may see as an opportunity to tell all his stories to someone who hasn't heard them a thousand times before."

     "Not happening," Catra interjects.

     Ri'ta laughs, "Oh, Busto will talk your ear off whether you're listening or not. Or . . ." Ri'ta trails off, she turns to Shire, "Gus has called an emergency council meeting."

     Shire quirks an eyebrow, but realizations dawns on her face, "He wouldn't."

     "You know how he is," Ri'ta says. "Az'al may be trying to gather information on her own."

     "Hasn't C'yra talked to her?" Shire asks.

     "Planning to, she's been busy this morning," Ri'ta reveals. "But considering all she's been through; I don't blame her."

     Catra has a clue on what they're talking about, they're talking about her. Some council is going to convene today to decide whether she can stay or not, because she’s a Horde soldier. Catra swallows the last piece of meat and questions, "But, aren’t you and your wife the queens, or whatever? Can't you just tell them to fucking deal with it?"

     Ri'ta doesn't seem surprised that Catra was able to skim on what's going on, "We could, but the Council is a Magicat tradition. When C'yra's ancestor, the first C'yra of D'riluth, united the tribes of Purrsia, she created the Council so each tribe could have a voice in how the Magicats were ruled. It's changed quite a bit since the tribe structure . . . no longer exists. It's myself, C'yra, and the heads of main the core factions: the soldiers, the hunters, the scholars, the chefs, so on and so forth. C'yra prefers it this way, so everyone can still have a voice."

     "And so this Busto person is going to come in and evaluate me to see if I'm evil or not?" Catra guesses.

     "Yes, but he'll also talk your ear off," Ri'ta ends it with a smile. "But I'm sure that the meeting will go smoothly. Mine and C'yra's vote both count as two, and I'm sure that C'yra can sway Az'al if you can't win Busto over."

     "Honestly, just nod your head and say 'okay' every once and a while and you'll be fine," Shire advises. "Act like you're listening and he'll love you."

     Catra has to think about it. She doesn't like this, one bit, sucking up to some stranger so she could stay. But, she's definitely not well enough to survive Beast Island on her own. She sighs, "Fine. Maybe you can tell the Council that I'm planning on leaving once I'm healed up, anyways. Don't need to go too out of your way for me."

     Ri'ta smile seems sad now, for some reason, "Alright, thank-you."

     Shire looks between the two and picks up on the awkwardness, "So, lesson at the same time?"

     "Yes," Ri'ta turns to Shire. "When Busto gets here, you are welcome to come and find me in the library. I must go and talk to Deut'ron, so I will see you later. You too, Catra."

     "Sure," Catra just shrugs.

     Ri'ta makes her exit, and Catra looks down at her empty plate. That witch must be working more magic, because Catra feels bad, somehow? Like she disappointed Ri'ta when she didn't do anything to disappoint.

     "You done eating?" Shire checks with Catra.

     "Yeah uh . . ." Catra looks over to the basket. "Is there more?"

     Shire smiles, "Yeah, of course. My aunt always makes extra."

     Shire gets Catra another plate, and though the proportion is not as big as last time, Catra basically inhales the food. Shire watches with a curious look, "Wow, you were hungrier than I expected. Want me to send N'yan to get some more?"

     "Yeah, this is the best shit I've ever had," Catra admits as she polishes off the last of the meat. "Better than anything I've ever had in the Horde. Of course, all we had was ration bars."

     "Really?" Shire questions. Catra just nods. She looks down at her own plate, "I can tell my aunt to give you more, or try more stuff out. She loves experimenting with food."

     "Yeah, sure," Catra agrees. "As long as it as good as this."

     "Oh, it will be," Shire promises. She picks up Catra's empty plate and washes it off in a sink in the corner. She stacks up the plates and put them back in the basket, "I'll be right back. I'm going to see if N'yan’s done, or if she's still playing with magic."

     Shire moves to the corner room, leaving Catra with her thoughts.

 

* * *

 

 

     "Hello there!"

     Catra was about to take a nap (since the infirmary was so boring, asides from N'yan and Shire yelling at each other every once and a while) when the door to the infirmary bursts open.

     A younger male Magicat swaggers into the room, and his general disposition makes Catra scowl. He’s an orange tabby, wearing a red uniform with a gold cord across his chest like a sash and a short red cape hanging off his back. A sword is tucked into his belt and he has on thigh-high, black boots. It’s an odd choice, and Catra forces herself not to think about it. He has a dazzling grin as he glides into the room he announces, “No need to fear, for Captain Bust’fer of Bo’ots is here!”

     Shire sighs as she steps out of the corner room, dragging N’yan by her hand, “Hey Busto.”

     “Shire! How are you today?” Busto asks, and even though he’s already coming off as full of himself, seems genuine.

     “Perfect,” Shire sighs. “Please don’t talk Catra’s ears off, she needs at least one part of her to not be broken.”

     “Will do,” Busto dramatically opens the door. “You can trust your patient with me. Now, you two ladies should be on your way, don’t want to leave the Queen waiting.”

     N'yan giggles at Busto’s extravagance, but Shire just rolls her eyes. She gives Catra an apologetic look, and leaves her alone with Busto.

     “So, your name is Catra?” Busto asks as he walks over to her, boots squeaking on the floor. He leans up against the counter across from the end of her bed, “That’s a bit on the nose, don’t you think?”

     Catra glares at him, “And what kind of idiotic name is Busto?”

     “Oo, feisty,” Busto comments, but moves on. “It was a nickname given to me by my cousin. Is Catra a nickname?”

     “No, it’s the name I’ve always had,” Catra hisses. “And look, let’s get this clear: I know you’re not here to be buddy-buddy. I know you’re here to report back on me to your boss. You can tell her this: I’m not staying in Half Moon. I’m going to get healed up and get out of all of your furs before you know it.”

     “Really?” Busto checks.

     Catra nods, “So I don’t want to hear any of your stories either.”

     “Well, that’s a pity,” Busto sighs. “But are you sure you want to go back out into Beast Island, especially after you went hand-to-hand with a monster?”

     “Now that I know what I'm dealing with, I’ll be fine,” Catra insists. “And that’s that.”

     “Hhm, it’s a shame, I would’ve loved to trade blows with you, I’ve heard about the might of Force Captains, and being a captain myself, I feel like it could be a fair fight,” Busto mentions.

     Catra just rolls her eyes, “Yeah, sure. Now we can stop talking.”

     “So what was the Horde like?”

     Catra glares at Busto, who has a mischievous smile on his, “‘Didn’t I just say I don’t want to talk.”

     “Yet you’re still talking.”

     “Fuck, fine you wanna know what the Horde’s like? It fucking sucks.”

     “Really, yet you want to go back?”

     “Better than on an island overrun by vicious monsters.”

     “Are you sure? Because I heard that you already had some of Jen’dots’ food, and I know there’s no one in all of Etheria that’s a better cook than her.”

     “I’ve survived on Horde food long enough.”

     “But still, you would want to go back to the Horde after they sent you to your death?” Busto circles back. By Lord Hordak, he was annoying.

     “Who said I was going to just rejoin them? I’m not that stupid.”

     “I feel we’re having some type of disconnect here. What do you think you’re going to do once you leave Half Moon?”

     “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

     “Fair. So considering that you’ve been unconscious for a week, I doubt you’ve seen much of Half Moon.”

     “Nope. Don’t need to. Don’t care.”

     "Are you sure? We may be underground but we have a beautiful city. A vast marketplace. Sprawling libraries. State of the art training arenas."

     "What, are you a soldier or a travel guide? You don't have to try and sell me shit because I'm not biting."

     Busto just grins, like that's a challenge. Catra scowls deeper.

     "Have you ever heard of a game called 20 questions?" Busto carefully states like he's handling a bomb.

     "No," Catra sighs. She wants to add onto the fact that the only 'games' the Horde played were usually on the combat field, and involved strategy or hitting each other.

     "Well, it's a game where someone thinks of an object-an animal, plant, mineral, something animate or inanimate-and the other must guess what it is by asking questions that can be answered with 'yes', 'no' or 'maybe'," Busto explains. "But, you have to guess what it is within twenty questions."

     "Sounds _riveting_ ," Catra snarks.

     "Exactly!" Busto beams, knowing very well that that was sarcasm. "So, I'll think of something first . . . and got it. Alright, you ask a question."

     Catra sighs, "What is it?"

     "Not a valid question, I can only answer with yes, no, maybe or neither," Busto argues. "Try again."

     "This is pointless," Catra growls and glares at Busto. "After this, I will never see you again and yet you decide to torture me with inane games that are completely stupid."

     "Harsh, and well, after this I am going to report to my boss on how this meeting goes as you deduced earlier," Busto continues. "And, if you don't want to play, I can just tell you about some of my grand adventures. I'm sure you'll find them, oh what's the word you used . . . riveting?"

     Catra glares at him. They both know very well that she needs to stay in Half Moon for at least seven more weeks, to recover, or else she'll fucking die. She huffs, "Fine. Does it move?"

     Busto thinks, "Maybe."

     "Is it an animal?" Catra drones on.

     "No."

     "A plant?"

     "Yes."

     "I don't know any fucking plants."

     "Just _try_."

     "Is it a tree?"

     "No.”

     "Does it have leaves?"

     "Yes."

     "That's all plants!"

     "Continue."

     "Is it, uh, poisonous, I fucking guess?"

     "No."

     "So is it edible?"

     "Yes."

     "Does it . . . have flowers?"

     "No."

     "Does it have fruit?"

     "No."

     "So then it's a stupid piece of shit plant?"

     "No, that's an insult to the plant and I'm counting that as one of your twenty questions."

     Catra continues to try, but the Horde didn't teach her anything about plants other than to identify which ones are poisonous and which ones are not. Apparently, Busto was thinking of 'catnip' and Catra doesn't even know what the fuck that is.

     "I'll show you, one day," Busto says with a devious grin. "So, did you enjoy the game?"

     "No. It was terrible."

     "We can play a different version then."

     "No, please. This is worse than torture."

     "No, it'll be fun," Busto insists. "We take turns asking each other twenty questions so we can get to know each other better."

     "What if I don't want to know you better?"

     "Too bad. So, what's your favorite color?"

     "I dunno, blue I guess?" Catra shrugs. She doesn't really know what to ask Busto, but then a devious plot hatches in her mind, "What's the fastest way out of this place?"

     "Through the door, obviously," Busto grins. "So, what's your favorite food?"

     "Whatever I had for breakfast this morning," Catra rolls her eyes. Busto foiled her devious plan first thing, so she just tries to keep him happy at this point. Maybe he'll be less annoying, "So like, Ri'ta mentioned something about you being on the patrol that found me . . . how fucked up was I?"

     A shadow falls over Busto's face as the perpetual smile falters, "You were in . . . a real bad way. You're lucky to be alive right now." Busto doesn't seem to want to dwell on that too long, and won't let Catra dwell on it, "So, did you have any friends in the Horde?"

     Catra's a bit shocked, since Busto seemed to have been making small talk. Her first thought is Adora and she almost spits out 'no', but then thoughts of Scorpia and Entrapta roll in. She wants to curl into a ball but mutters, "You don't really have friends in the Horde."

     Busto's smile falters again, but then the door to the infirmary opens again. Catra wishes for Shire and her annoying cousin to return. Instead, it's an unfamiliar Magicat.

     She seems to be around the same ages as C'yra, has slate gray fur and shoulder-length hair. She has bright blue eyes that seem to have been frozen in a critical glare. She's wearing the same red uniform as Busto but slightly stylized and with more emblems and badges, and Catra knows by the way she walks that she's in charge of something around here.

     Busto hopes to attention, "General Az'al."

     "At ease," Az'al says, not focusing on Catra at all. "I would like to talk to you."

     "Already?" Busto checks. "Shire has not returned yet and I promised to watch over Catra."

     Az'al glances over to Catra, face unchanging, but Catra's seen that look before. The General's wondering why Busto's bothering to use her name, she's a Horde soldier and worthless.

     "The meeting is in an hour. I'd like a debrief before then," Az'al explains. "We can step outside, if you wish."

     Busto nods obediently, and gives Catra one of his dazzling smiles, "Be right back."

     The two leave the room and Catra's stuck with her thoughts. Busto was an annoyance and grated her in the wrong way but . . . after meeting his superior she has to realize that he's not as bad as that and could, quite possibly, be a decent person. But, Catra doesn't trust anyone, especially soldiers under people like that. She once was a soldier under a person like that.

     Busto does not come right back. Shire and N'yan return from the lesson and Shire explains that she let the two soldiers go. Catra's surprised, Busto doesn't seem like the person who would go without a dramatic goodbye, but at least Catra can finally nap.

 

* * *

 

 

     So, Catra naps. Sweet, dreamless sleep overtakes her for a couple hours and when she wakes up, C'yra is by her bed.

     C'yra is no longer dressed in her night clothes, but she's not dressed like how Catra expected a Queen to dress. She has seen Queen Angela and the Princesses in their flowing robes and tiaras. Ri'ta wore a more practical robe so Catra really didn't question it. C'yra's outfit is closer to a military uniform, like Az'al's but purple and with different emblems. She doesn’t bother with a tiara, her head bare of any royal signifier.

     C'yra's sitting on the bed, elbows on her legs as she stares at her clasped hands.

     "Fuck, how long have you been there?" Catra yawns as she wakes up. She doesn't bother trying to sit up, just remains laying down.

     "Not long," C'yra says, but it sounds forced. She must've been there a while, lost in thought and hopefully not watching her sleep like some creep. "Ri'ta told me you heard about the Council Meeting and figured out it was about you."

     "Yeah, so I'm out?" Catra guessed. Why else would the fucking Queen herself be here other than to deliver the bad news?

     "No," C'yra reveals. "You are welcome to stay in Half Moon as long as you want. The majority agreed to let you stay here and I wanted to deliver the good news myself."

     "Well, I'm only going to be here until I get better, so that's cool, I guess," Catra huffs.

     The same sad look Ri'ta had earlier crosses C'yra's face as well. She promptly stands up, "Then you best get your rest, but know that you will always be welcomed here."

     Catra knows that's not true. The Queens may welcome her, and somehow the majority of this stupid council thinks that she could belong, but she won't. There will be people like Az'al, seeing her as just a fucking Horde soldier and a failure and nothing else. She's not welcome in Half Moon. She doesn't belong here.

     She might not belong anywhere.

     "Also, I don't know how you manage to win Busto over, but he thinks highly of you," C'yra adds. "He's well-liked by the public and as loyal as they come. He's a friend you'll want by your side, whether or not you stay in Half Moon."

     Catra recalls Busto's final question, about whether or not she had friends. She answers, "I'm not really the person who has friends."

     "Maybe you haven't met the right people," C'yra suggests. Catra thought she had met the right person to be her friend, through thick and thin and forever. Then there was Scorpia, who was quickly becoming Catra's friend. C'yra continues, "But, I really should let you go back to bed. Sleep well, kitten."

     C'yra turns around leaves and Catra wonders why that makes her feel better, somehow. Those three words can conjure up a warm feeling in her chest, and it freaks her the fuck out. Maybe C'yra can do magic too. Or maybe . . . C'yra and Ri'ta just mean it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and if you enjoyed it or just want to guess what fictional cat all the characters are named after, go ahead and leave a comment! Have a good day!


	4. Interlude 1: Scorpia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, what's Scorpia been up to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course as soon as I say I wanted to update this once a week I'm late. 
> 
> To be fair, I've been busy. I'm trying to go to a university in the winter and I've got to get shit done now. Plus, once again, full-time school and two jobs. Fun times! 
> 
> Anyway, I guess I have two other points to touch on. One, is the She-Ra trailer. I knew that this was, no way in hell, going to be close to anything that happens in Season Three. But, I'm going to continue my original plan and season three looks pretty cool. 
> 
> Secondly . . . that Cats trailer . . . what in the WHOLE fuck. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

     Scorpia sits in Catra’s room, feeling completely lost.

     It’s been a few days since her Wildcat was sent to Beast Island. She was shipped off, effective immediately, with no time for Scorpia to interfere.

     Scorpia’s tried everything since to figure out where Beast Island is and how she can get to Catra. Well, everything short of marching up to Hordak himself and demanding he return her now. She’s asked just about every cadet and officer what they know about Beast Island, tried to track the ships leaving and returning to the Fright Zone, and got Entrapta to hack into the Fright Zone systems.

     Nothing.

     Scorpia’s not sure why Beast Island is such a well-hidden secret, considering that it’s a prison island and a tale to scare young Horde cadets. There’s something more there, something she doesn’t understand . . .

     But Scorpia’s too overwhelmed with regret to try to comprehend the larger picture. She failed to protect her Wildcat, and now she’s off suffering on the terrible Beast Island.

     Scorpia wishes she knows what she could have done different, and even if she managed to intercept Catra’s exiling, she’s not sure what she could have done. She would, of course, fight like hell to protect her Wildcat, even if that meant defying the Horde. But then, if they managed to make it out of the Fright Zone alive, where would they go?

     Every village would spurn them for being Horde soldiers. The Princess Alliance would pursue them for the grievances they two of them have caused them in the past. There would be nowhere to go.

     Scorpia flops back on the bed, falling deeper into her grieving. She already misses Catra, her Wildcat would have a plan and the two of them would pull it off, together. Scorpia already feels so alone, like she did before Shadow Weaver brought her and Catra together.

     That’s probably the only good thing Shadow Weaver has ever done. She brought her and Catra together.

     But, if Scorpia ever sees Shadow Weaver again she is going to kick the shit out of her, for hurting Catra. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

     Scorpia decides to not waste too much of thought on Shadow Weaver, she’s not worth the trouble. She goes back to replaying and replaying and replaying every possible scenario on how she could possibly get Catra back but nothing’s adding up.

     Until she has her epiphany.

     Her thoughts wander to Entrapta, as even though she considers Entrapta a friend, right now Entrapta is loyal to her progress in technology. Going against the Horde to get Catra back counteracts that. Scorpia doesn’t blame her for that, just wishes that she would come along, as it was nice to be friends with a Princess who doesn’t abhor her.

     The train of thought jumps to the Princess Alliance. How they all must hate her and Catra for being a part of the Horde. In all truths, the Horde is pretty much the only thing either of them have ever known. The only person who could possibly understand that is . . .

     Adora.

     Scorpia jolts up, sitting up straight in bed. She’s always been jealous of Adora, how close she is to Catra even though the two are on opposite sides of the war. After ever brutal fight, there’s something deep down inside of both of them that forces them to still care about the other person.

     Adora still cares about Catra, maybe even as much as Scorpia does.

     She would help.

     She would help her Scorpia save Catra.

     Scorpia decides to wait until night, going through the rest of her day absent-mindedly, trying to formulate and hide her plan at the same time. No one apparently notices, as Scorpia was able to sneak out later that night with no interference.

     Scorpia steals one of the skiffs, piloting it through the twisting Whispering Woods. Scorpia almost gets lost, once or twice, but eventually she sees Bright Moon, a beacon in the literal darkness.

     It’s dawn when she finds the castle, the sun creating a halo around the already glowing castle. It’s beautiful, with its bright colors and shimmering waterfalls. It also kinda hurts Scorpia’s eyes.

     She parks the skiff on the edge of the Whispering Woods, jumping down into the dirt and walking towards the tree line. In the distance, she can spot some guards making their rounds on the castle, but none as far out as the Woods.

     Scorpia takes a deep breath and steps out into the light.

     She finds the path the goes right up to the front gate and follows it. May as well be direct, it’ll be more suspicious if she tries to sneak in. Stay calm, keep her claw shut and tail down. Don’t be a threat.

     She only gets half-way up the path before some of the guards on the parapets see her. Even from so far away, she can hear their echoing cry of, “STOP RIGHT THERE!”

     So Scorpia stops, puts her claws up in the air and kneels on the ground. It feels demeaning, but this just might be the fastest way to Adora.

     The guards share a confused look before more pile out of the front gates of the castle door. They come out with handcuffs, but with one look at her claws and the small loops of the cuffs, one guard says, “Uh . . . I don’t think there are gonna fit.”

     “No shit,” a second ones says. She keeps a spear aimed at Scorpia, “Just . . . don’t try any funny business, Horde scum.”

     “I’m here to see Adora, not fight,” Scorpia states. “Tell her it’s about Catra.”

     The two guards share another confused look, and the first one says, “Uh . . . okay?”

     “I think we’re just gonna put ya in a cell now,” the second one insists.

     Scorpia hates the thought of that. She knows the cells in the Fright Zone are void of any comfort asides from a cold, hard floor. But she goes along and allow herself to be corraled into the castle like a monster and put inside a cell.

     The cell is actually . . . nice? Scorpia’s a bit surprised. There’s a bed, toilet, sink and desk, and chair, all nailed into the ground but it’s already looking better than Horde cells. The mattress on the bed is just like the ones back in the Fright Zone, but the pillow is a bit plushier. There’s a small window near the ceiling that lets light stream in from outside.

     Scorpia sits down on the bed as the cell door closes. The Rebellion only has iron bars, not a force field like the Horde. If Scorpia really wanted too, she could just bend the bars and leave, and even though she’s not a fan of being put into a cell she doesn’t want to leave.

     The two guards stand outside her cell for a moment, and the first one questions, “Doya think she’s too close to tha . . . scary one?”

     “I dunno,” the second one shrugs. “Queen Angella can make that decision. Rory went to go tell ‘er that we got a second Horde soldier in Bright Moon in a week.”

     “Oh yeah, but this one ain’t as scary,” the first insists as the two walk away.

     Scorpia sits in silence for a while, hoping that someone will listen to her plea and tell Adora she’s here. If she’s left to rot away in this cell, she can at least say she tried to save her Wildcat.

     Scorpia’s surprised when she gets a visitor not an hour (at least she thinks it’s an hour) later, but it’s not Adora or any of the Princesses.

     The ethereal form of Queen Angella seems to float between the cells and she rests in front of the door to Scorpia’s. Her face is neutral and solid as stone as she looks down and cordially orders, “State your name and business here, Horde Soldier.”

     “Oh, uh,” Scorpia jumps off her bed. “Force Commander Scorpia, though I guess technically not anymore? I uh, kinda left without telling anyone but I don’t think I’ll be able to go back after this, all things considering-”

     “And your business?” Angella cuts her off.

     “Oh! Right, well,” Scorpia tries to get herself back on track, but she rambles whether or not she’s nervous. “I came to see Adora. Catra’s in trouble and she’s the only one who can help me.”

     “So you came to Bright Moon . . . for aid?” Angella checks.

     “Yes,” Scorpia pleads. “Catra’s my best friend and . . . and . . . she’s been sentenced to a fate worse than death and need to save her, and I know Adora and Catra haven’t gotten along in a while but they still care for each other and she can help me!”

     Angella doesn’t really react during Scorpia’s speech. She still stands up, straight as a board and says, “Is that why you surrendered yourself to the Rebellion?”

     Scorpia nods, trying to keep herself from going off on another tangent.

     “Before we continue, what do you know about the Horde mage, Shadow Weaver?” Angella questions.

     “Well, after Catra usurped her she was in prison for a while,” Scorpia spills in hope of pleasing Angella. “But Hordak wanted to send her to Beast Island, but Shadow Weaver manipulated Catra into helping her escape her cell. So, Catra got into trouble instead and received Shadow Weaver’s punishment.”

     Scorpia looks down at her claws, “She only told me all of this in confidence, but Hordak still found out. And now she’s on Beast Island, and she could die, and my Wildcat could die and it would be my fault! So please, let me speak to Adora.”

     “Adora’s not in Bright Moon,” Angella simply says.

     Scorpia’s mouth drops, “Uh, what?”

     “She has gone on a mission, away from Bright Moon,” Angella says, staying tight-lipped about her true whereabouts. “And it may be quite some time before she returns.”

     Scorpia staggers back to the bed and slumps down onto it. Adora’s not here. She’s trapped in Bright Moon. Catra will be as dead as dirt by the time she’s able to do anything.

     “But you gave me valuable insight on a common enemy and I believe your intentions are pure,” Angella continues. “You do not have to stay in this cell, but you will be under house arrest in one of the rooms here in Bright Moon, kept with a constant guard. You can remain there until Adora returns, but I will not allow you to return to the Fright Zone.”

     Scorpia doesn’t feel like she has much of a choice, but she does ask, “What do you know about Beast Island?”

     Angella pauses, “To be honest, I’ve never heard of it before.”

     “It’s a prison island, where traitorous Horde soldiers are sent to suffer and die,” Scorpia explains. “I thought it was just a story to scare children, but it’s real. And that’s where Catra is. I can’t just wait around. She’ll be dead already.”

     “I’m being more lenient than I should be, especially with a Horde soldier that aided in the attack on my home,” Angella says. “Even though your emotions are real, I must be wary that this is a trap. It is up for Adora to decide whether to pursue this or not, but as I said she is away. I will try and send word to her, but until then you must wait. You can either wait here, or in one of our rooms. What will it be?”

     Scorpia looks around the cells. If the cells are this nice, the rooms must be nicer. If she’s going to wait, she may as well wait in comfort.

     “I’ll go to the room,” Scorpia mumbles.

     “I’ll have the guard prepare one for you, and retrieve you when it’s ready,” Angella states. “And I must warn you, one wrong move and you’ll be back in a cell and unable to see Adora. Am I clear?”

     “Yes ma’am,” Scorpia says, staring Angella in the eyes.

     Angella curtly nods and glides away, the entrance to the jail slams shut and echoes once she’s gone.

     It doesn’t take much longer for the guards to come and get Scorpia. She’s flanked on either side as she’s lead up into the castle, to a room that already has guards stationed outside of it. As she enters, the door locks behind her and she has to take in just how bright this place really is.

     There’s a large plush bed at the center of the room that she just knows won’t mix well with her claws. There’s a waterfall in the corner next to a large open balcony overlooking the villages of Bright Moon. There’s an en suite bathroom and lots of furniture and . . . man it’s so bright. Scorpia really should ask for a pair of sunglasses or something.

     Scorpia avoids the bed and sits by the waterfall, listening to the trickle of water to try and relax her. However, her thoughts are a flurry of worries about Catra and Beast Island and when Adora would arrive.

     She really hopes that Adora returns so. And Catra can survive long enough for Scorpia to come for her. Because she’d get to Beast Island eventually, so she can see her Wildcat again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you liked this chapter or want to scream about the Cats trailer (or She-Ra too,I guess that's related to this fic), go ahead and leave a comment! That's the equivalent of standing in my room and cheering me on as I write this. Thank-you and see y'all next time!
> 
> Next time, load on for the magical mystery tour!


	5. so what the heck you're welcome glad to have you with us even though we may not ever mention it again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra gets a tour of Half Moon and meets some of it's colorful denizens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh . . . sorry this is late? But happy She-Ra season three! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Also, I'm really tired and can't remember but the chapter title is from the one song from the Music Man about Iowa. I think the title's Iowa Stubborn? Idk.

     It’s not a couple days until Catra sees either of the Queens again.

     She’s been getting along with just Shire and N’yan, not really talking with either of them but appreciating not being left alone in the infirmary. Busto stopped by once as well, but Shire chased him out as soon as he started to annoy her.

     And then C’yra shows up out of the blue.

     Shire had taken N’yan to go and get lunch, and promised to bring some back. She trusted Catra not to do anything stupid at this point, mainly because Catra doesn’t want to compromise her recovery. So, Catra was completely alone.

     C’yra looks around the room as she enters, quietly enough to surprise Catra. Catra almost jumps out of bed when she sees the Queen and hisses, “Fuck, don’t you know how to knock?”

     “I’m sorry,” C’yra tries to bite back a chuckle. “I was expecting Shire to be here.”

     “Getting lunch,” Catra explains. “What are you doing here?”

     “I came here to check-up on you,” C’yra says and sits down in the same spot she sat the night Catra woke up (it was basically just her spot at this point). “How are you feeling?”

     “Bored,” Catra huffs. N’yan was trying to get her to play a game called ‘Twono', but Catra didn’t want to play stupid board games. Maybe she should have taken her up on it.

     “I know, I don’t like spending much time in the infirmary either,” C’yra says. “So, I thought I’d offer you a tour.”

     Catra quirks an eyebrow, “I thought I was on bed rest?”

     “Yes,” C’yra stands up and walks over to one of the tall cabinets at the end of the room. She pulls out a wheelchair that looks uncomfortable but functional, “But I having a feeling we can get away with it. So, would you like to come with me?”

     Catra thinks through her options, and decides that she not only doesn’t have anything better to do, but also doesn’t have a choice because this is the queen. She shrugs, “As long as we stop by the kitchen, I’ll be happy.”

     C’yra smiles, “Good. Let’s get you out.”

     It takes some maneuvering, especially because Catra’s leg in a cast and it hurting to twists around, but she gets the chair with minimal pain. C’yra writes a note for Shire and they leave.

     The hallways of Half Moon are made of rock, with little crevices carved out near the ceiling and floor to squeeze in small lanterns. There's a couple of other doors in this hallway, but it currently seems empty.

     "Not many people are out now, because it's lunchtime," C'yra explains. "Lunch is served from noon to two, but Jen’dots is not one to deny anyone food if they're a bit earlier or a bit late. So, would you like to stop by the kitchen first or elsewhere?"

     It doesn't take Catra long to deliberate, her stomach grumbles loudly and she decides, "Kitchen."

     "Alright," C'yra says.

     The halls seem twisting, and Catra wonders if C'yra is deliberately taking the longest path to the kitchen possible with the winding path she's taking. Catra wonders if it just takes forever because she's hungry, or Half Moon is just that confusing.

     After a lifetime of strolling through the halls, Catra can hear a cacophony of voice echoing off cave walls and into the tunnels. It sounds like the Fright Zone's mess hall at dinner, with tired recruits at the end of a hard day's training managing to gab as they shove the meager rations in their mouths. Well, actually it doesn't sound the same. These aren't drones of tired subjects, they're lively and . . . joyful sounding.

     A steep incline brings C'yra and Catra into the cafeteria. It's a large cavern, with vines and floating lights hanging at the stooped ceiling. There are rows and rows of tables filled with Magicats, all talking and eating and sharing in revelry. Some wearing uniforms that are either red or green, some wear blue robes, and some are the clothes of commoners. Everyone is here, eating together.

     "Shit, that's a lot of people," Catra mumbles as C'yra wheels her in.

     C'yra chuckles, "This is the majority of the Magicat population. We make sure everyone is fed. The hunters hunt for food on the surface and bring it to the kitchen staff to prepare for everyone. Some families like to prepare food for themselves, and those portions are set aside for those that reserve it. Though, it's quite hard to resist Jen’dots food."

     "Yeah," Catra agrees. The cafeteria-style set-up reminded her of the Fright Zone but it was so . . . different. People enjoyed being here and eating together, and the food was, well, to put it mildly, _fucking fantastic_.

     C'yra wheels Catra over to a white building built off of the cave walls. There's a window at the front facing the cafeteria, and a large queue waiting for their food. Magicats pass by the open window and servers fill up their trays with a delicious-smelling meal.

     "We could wait in line," C'yra points out. There's a hint of mischief to her voice, and sounds like she's smirking, "Or, we could go in the back door."

     C'yra takes Catra near the back of the building and through one of the doors into the hot kitchen. Magicats wearing white clothes and poofy hats are running around and finishing making food or serving it to the people at the window. At the center of all the chaos, wearing a purple handkerchief around her neck, is a stout Magicat with brown fur. She reminds Catra a bit of Shire, and a lot like N'yan.

     She freezes when she sees Catra and C'yra, "Queen C'yra! You need to stop coming by during the lunch rush, I don't have time to talk!"

     Catra smirks that this woman has the balls to talk to a Queen like that. C'yra though, doesn't seem to mind, "Sorry Jen’dots, but we're not here to talk. I'm giving Catra a tour."

     "Catra?" Jen’dots looks down to her. Catra's waiting for a disgusted look to cross the chef's face, she is after all a Horde soldier, but instead Jen’dots lights up, "Shire's newest patient! By Saz, it’s wonderful to meet you! Shire's told me you've only ever had rations before, such a shame! I hope I'm feeding you well!"

     Catra's a bit shocked by Jen’dots' enthusiasm, "Yeah, uhm, it's really good. Do you have any leftovers right now?"

     "Well, I sent Shire away with an extra share, but we always make enough so everyone can have at least two shares, so we definitely have extras!" Jen’dots rushes away, moving around the kitchen in a blur. Less than five minutes later she returns with a delicious-smelling picnic basket, "There you go! Enjoy your meal, and hopefully I'll be able to see more of you once you're able to get around on your own two feet!"

     "Yeah . . ." Catra flashes to her plans to leave as soon as she's well, but she can already say for certain she'll miss Jen’dots' food.

     "Now you two better get out of here," Jen’dots continues. "It's lunch rush, after all."

     "Of course, thank-you," C'yra says and she and Catra retreat from the kitchen. When the door shuts, C'yra lets out a sigh of relief, "For a second, I thought she wasn't going to feed us. She hates it when I disturb her during a rush."

     Catra has already opened the picnic basket and is munching on the food inside. With a full mouth she mumbles back, "Yer welc'm th'n."

     "Well then, where to next?" C'yra asks and she moves them out of the cafeteria, into a different, winding, hallway.

     Between bites Catra snarks, "I dunno, you know this place better than me."

     "Well, would you like to see the training arena?" C'yra asks, sounding strangely hopeful.

     "Yeah, sure, why not," Catra shrugs. She hopes C'yra isn't asking her just because she's a Horde _soldier_. Okay yeah, maybe Catra is a bit curious about where the Magicats train, but that's just because Busto keeps on talking about it, not because she genuinely wants to know about that type of thing. Of course not.

     "The quickest way from here is through the market, so we'll be getting two birds with one stone," C'yra comments, seeming to pick up pace.

     It's not as long as a journey to the marketplace, also shoved into a large cavern. They enter on the second floor, a rim around the market and closer to the floating lights crowded in the ceiling. On the walls of this pathways are more entrances to the caverns, though in some of the large ones there seem to be shops. As they descend the spiral pathway into the market, Catra looks over the rails down into the colorful tents that are so pushed together that she can't see the ground.

     The market isn't too crowded-considering that almost everyone is at lunch-but it's still busy. Shopkeepers are pushing their wares, from rugs to clothes to shoes. C'yra doesn't stop to talk, but everyone smiles and waves at her as they pass. They leave the stares of confusion and disgust for Catra.

     C'yra seems determined to make it to the arena quickly, until there's a cry of pain followed by heckling laughs. She sighs, "I'm sorry Catra, I must derail for the tour and deal with this."

     Catra was finishing of the flavored wings of whatever-type-of-bird-that-lives-on-Beast-Island and was content to just eat. She mutters, "Yeah go ahead."

     C'yra parks Catra in an open spot between two empty stalls, both of their owners out of lunch and dives into the mess of the market.

     She returns, about ten minutes later, dragging a tall, Magicat with a mess of orange, red, white and black stripes covering his fur. Both of his ears are nicked and pierced and he's scowling as he's being pulled around like a child.

     "Ya can set me down now, C'yra," the Magicats drawls, like he's not concerned about his well-being.

     "Well Thom, are you going to try and steal from the marketplace again?" C'yra asks with a sigh, like this is a boresome chore. "And attack the stall keeper?"

     "No, of course not," Thom rolls his eyes and manages to sound like he's been caught in some odd trap, but the grin on his face says otherwise. "I would never."

     "You would, and you still will," C'yra says with a deep frown. "You have one more chance, or you're going to be stuck sleeping in a cell and spending your days doing community service. Am I clear?"

     "Of course," Thom rolls his eyes once again.

     C'yra lets go of the scruff of his neck and he falls onto the ground face-first. Catra can't help but laugh as he ungracefully stumbles back up onto his feet.

     Thom glares at her as he hisses, "Whatcha laughin' at, Horde scum?"

     Catra wants to retort, but C'yra places a hand on Thom's shoulder, "Catra is a guest in Half Moon, and you shall treat her with the same respect you'd give any other Magicat here."

     Thom sleazily grins, "I'll make sure to do just that. See ya 'round, Queenie!"

     Thom stalks back into the marketplace and C'yra glares at him as he leaves. Once he's gone, Catra comments, "Ya know, I don't think he treats anyone decently."

     "He doesn't," C'yra growls. She takes a deep breath and stands up a bit straighter, "But, don't worry yourself with Thom of M'cavity, Catra. He's just a ne'er-do-well, and better left for those in charge to deal with. Let's resume the tour."

     They promptly leave the market and take another winding path until they get to a formal set of doors. There's a small chamber behind it with racks of weapons, paintings of warriors, and some plush-looking seats. At the other enter is a curtained-off doorway, but when C'yra parts them, Catra can see the bright lights of the arena.

     C'yra wheels her out onto a formal viewing platform, definitely meant for herself and other Magicats royals (if there are any). There are two seats at the fore-front, with a scattering of seats behind them. C'yra manipulates the wheelchair around the seats so Catra can have a front-row look at the arena.

     There are rows of benches circling the arena, down to the actual fighting area below. It's large and clearly sectioned off for different tasks. In one quarter there's a complex climbing gym, for Magicats to test their dexterity. The next, there's a plethora of training dummies, all worn and beaten up. The other half is dedicated to sparring.

     Even from the height, Catra can see Busto facing off against three other Magicats soldiers. Two are bigger than him, and one is about the same size. In one hand, Busto is holding a thin blade, and the other is a small knife. He takes a breath, before blasting forward and trading blows with the biggest bloke in the bunch.

     "So, here's the training arena, open to all," C'yra explains, but Catra's paying more attention to Busto's fight. He's managed to knock the biggest one down and has turned to the second one. She continues, "But, you will always find some of the soldiers out here. Sadly, the ones in New Moon was bigger and frankly, more impressive, and I have many good memories training in there. I met Ri'ta there, afterall."

     Catra manages to tear her gaze away from the fight to look at C'yra, staring off in the distance with a wistful smile on her face. Catra's not sure if she wants to her to ask about it because . . . Catra's strangely curious, though she's telling herself that she doesn't care about the Queens and doesn't want to learn more about them because she'll be leaving. So Catra doesn't ask.

     But she does miss the rest of Busto's fight.

     All three soldiers are on the ground, and Busto is standing between the, victorious. She can't make out the words, but he says something encouraging as they pick themselves up.

     "Busto is an impressive soldier, one of our best," C'yra comments when she notices Catra watching him. "One of the many reasons the General of our standing army, Az'al, chose him as her majordomo."

     "Yeah on Az'al, what's her problem?" Catra decides to ask. "She sent him to spy on me, basically and seems to have a major stick up her ass."

     C'yra blanches, "You met Az'al?"

     "She came to talk to Busto when he was baby-sitting me that first day," Catra reveals.

     C'yra sighs and rubs her temple, "Az'al was hurt greatly by the Horde Invasion, as many of us were. She's cautious, and doesn't want anyone else to get hurt. Don't take it personally, she's a good person, deep down inside. She's just created many," C'yra pauses and takes a deep breath as she looks off into the distance, "Many barriers since the Magicats moved to Half Moon."

     Catra quirks an eyebrow. She _will_ take it personally, but C'yra's being a bit weird about this, "So, what's up with you two?"

     "Best friend since childhood," C'yra automatically says. She's silent for a moment as if she's just now thinking about what she should say before it just flies out, "But you don't need to know about a stranger's problems. It's about time we get moving, not much here for either of us to do."

     "Fair," Catra agrees. C'yra's stuck as he baby sitter and she's stuck in a wheelchair, so all they can do is watch the fights.

     They leave back through the antechamber back into the hallways. More Magicats are showing up, done with their lunch and getting back to their normal business. They politely nod to the Queen, but still give Catra odd looks.

     It's not too far of a walk to a pair of thick doors, made of metal and beautiful forged with a swirling design. As C'yra pushes one open, inside Catra can see rows and rows of . . . books.

     "This is the library," C'yra says, going into a whisper as she pushes Catra inside. "Center of learning for our scholars and mages."

     "You have . . . a lot of books," Catra says, looking at the high shelves as they pass by. All the books look really old, and Catra's never seen so many books in her life. The Horde didn't encourage reading that wasn't propaganda or battle strategy. She asks, "Didn't you all have to retreat into the caves? How come you saved all these books?"

     "The books were actually here before we moved into the Half Moon caves," C'yra explains. "Hundreds of years ago, a bolt of lightning struck the Great Library of New Moon, causing it to burn down. The Fire of Ilir convinced my ancestor, Queen Cl'eo, to move the surviving books to a place where they would be safe from natural disaster. That answer was the Half Moon Caves, where they would be safe from fires and flooding. In the years since, the scholars have recreated many of the books lost and made copies. That's why our library is so vast."

     Catra only half pays attention, the history boring her. C'yra directs them to the center of the library where the floor is raised to a large circular platform. It's covered in tables, filled with research and jars of bright liquids, but a large area at the center is open. And, right now at the center, looking at a book on a lectern, is Ri'ta.

     Well, Ri'ta is a mage and C'yra said that mages congregate in the library, so it makes sense that she's here. C'yra doesn't disturb her though, as Ri'ta raises her arms and objects placed on the floor around her start to float. They float straight off the ground, each glowing faintly, until they start to slowly spin around.

     The magic makes Catra uncomfortable. She tries to shrink back into the chair, wondering if she could slowly start scooting away for when it eventually goes wrong. C'yra's wrapped up in the magic and Catra doesn't want to disturb anything, so she tries to find something else to focus on.

     Catra finds a welcome distraction when she notices that Ri'ta's missing a hand. It's the arm she often tucks into her robe, and now it makes sense why. There's a stump at the wrist and air where the hand should be, and Catra has to wonder what happened to her.

     The objects go faster and faster until they shoot towards the center above Ri'ta head and collide. Instead of exploding, they become one object and floats down onto the lectern. Ri'ta picks up a strange sphere, coated with a rocky-looking substance, and turns around. Her mouth turns into an 'o' as she gasps, "By Saz, I didn't hear you two enter."

     "You never do," C'yra says with a soft smile. Ri'ta walks over and C'yra steps up onto the dais to meet her, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, "Anyways, I'm giving Catra the tour of Half Moon."

     "Did you ask Shire for permission?" Ri'ta questions, quirking an eyebrow through her smirk makes Catra think she already knows the answer.

     "Well . . . " C'yra rubs the back of her head.

     "You would've taken Catra on the tour if she said no anyways?"

     "You know me so well," C'yra grins dopily, like a teenager in love.

     "Yes, and you're as stubborn as they come," Ri'ta comments, but says it fondly. She places the sphere in a basket on one of the tables, "Well Catra, I better make sure you get returned to the infirmary safely, but do you have any questions first?"

     "Any?" Catra checks.

     "Yes, shoot," Ri'ta insists.

     Catra looks at the stump once again and asks, "What happened to your hand?"

     Ri'ta looks down at the stump and her eyes go wide as well, "Holy scat, when did that happen?"

     Catra quickly glances to C'yra for any confirmation as to whether this was a recent development. C'yra rolls her eyes and sighs, "Dear, that stopped being funny twelve years ago."

     "The kits still get a kick out of it," Ri'ta insists.

     C'yra gives Catra a tried look as she warns, "She has more than that. Be prepared for a lot of bad jokes."

     "They're great!"

     "I love you, but they're not."

     "They are, and Catra," Ri'ta finally gets serious. "I lost it during the Horde Invasion, during one of the battles."

     "You were fighting? I thought you were just a mage," Catra comments.

     "A war mage," Ri'ta corrects. "One of the best. After all, the first time I met C'yra I bested her in battle."

     "And from that day on I was completely taken by you," C'yra says, looking at Ri'ta like she was the sun. Ri'ta smiles back and gives C'yra the same look.

     The two of them are so in love it's actually kinda of disgusting.

     Thankfully, there was a distraction.

     A bent-over Magicat with slate grey fur hobbles over, his cane made of knotted wood knocking on the ground with every step and a small pair of glasses in danger of falling of his nose. He's looking directly at Catra, pure hatred etched in his grizzled features. Catra figures that even in her weakened state, she can take him out by blowing on him and knocking him over.

     "My Queens," the Magicat basically growls as he shatters the moment. "May I ask, what are you thinking, bringing the Horde soldier into the Great Library?"

     The mood shifts instantly, C'yra returning to the serious look of a Queen and Ri'ta giving the Magicat an annoyed look that screams 'seriously? right now?' C'yra steps forward, standing as straight as she can and towering over the Magicat, trying to intimidate him, "Gus, Catra is our guest in Half Moon. I was simply giving her a tour."

     "You're risking thousands of pages of knowledge by bringing her here, after all the work your ancestors have done to protect this place!" Gus spits, still keeping a whisper.

     "The Council decided that Catra can stay in Half Moon as long as she wishes," C'yra continues. "And the Great Library is included in Half Moon."

     "I'm not even that interested in dusty old books," Catra points out, but Gus only shoots her another withered glare. She continues, "And what am I even going to do, huh? Stuck in this wheelchair?"

     "Knowledge is dangerous," Gus hisses, his cane makes a slight knocking sound against the floor as he shakes in rage. "The more you know, the worst off the Magicats are."

     "Gus, you're over-reacting," Ri'ta steps in. "We all lost something to the Horde, and yet C'yra and I and many others are not filled with anger by just the sight of her. Maybe you need to rethink your stance against her, it will do you better in the long run."

     "I know why you two have let your guards down," Gus pouts. "But I don't want her in my library."

     "It's not _your_ library," C'yra argues. "It's not even my library. This library belongs to Half Moon, to the Magicats. Even Catra has a right to have access to it. But you may go back to your work in peace. We were just leaving."

     "Good," Gus spits, sends Catra one glare, and hobbles away.

     "Well," Ri'ta sighs. "That's happened. Catra, let's get you back to the infirmary before Shire hunts C'yra down."

     "There's still the Shrines and Hunter's Quarters," C'yra says, steering Catra out of the library. "But that can happen at another time."

     Catra nods, and waits until they're out of the library and heavy metal doors have closed behind them to ask, "Man, that Gus guy's an ass."

     Ri'ta laughs and C'yra comments. "Well, if I wasn't Queen, I'd have to agree with you. But since I am, I have nothing to say to that."

     Catra stays mostly silent on the way back to the infirmary, C'yra and Ri'ta talking together and Catra feeling that she's intruding on something. They seem so close and intimate with each other, something Catra once had with Adora though not as . . . romantic or intense. It makes Catra miss Adora, but then Catra shoves that thought into the incinerator of her mind as soon as she processes it.

     Shire's waiting for them in the infirmary, and doesn't rat out C'yra until Ri'ta tells her that it's okay to. C'yra is looking at Ri'ta in annoyance during said ratting out, but Ri'ta just laughs at her situation. Eventually, the two leave and Catra's boring day in the infirmary proceeds as normal.

     But, Catra keeps on thinking about Half Moon. The joy in the cafeteria, the friendliness of Jen'dots, the expertise of the soldiers, the endlessness of the library and the love between C'yra and Ri'ta. However, the good starkly contrast with the odd looks she received all day, the scheming of Thom, and the hatred from Gus.

     Even so, Catra wants to see more of Half Moon.

     And that thought scares her.

     She's getting attached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you or a love one was traumatized by the Cats trailer, you should consider commenting on this fic. Or if you liked the chapter, let me know! 
> 
> Next time: Dreams, by Fleetwood Mac


	6. like a heartbeat drives you mad in the stillness of remembering what you had and what you lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra has a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Dreams, by Fleetwood Mac
> 
> Uhm, sorry I guess for taking a hot second to update? I've been busy. I also haven't seen She-Ra season 3 yet. I'm so bad at actually watching shows I like. 
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy the chapter!

     It is a moment of respite, between endless training exercises and Shadow Weaver bearing down on her for everything she does. Catra and Adora have snuck away, going up, up and up to the highest points of the Fright Zone.

     "C'mon, slowpoke!" Catra teases, jumping from one pipe to a ledge, quick as ever.

     "Hey, hold on!" Adora cries back, still a couple floors behind.

     This was one of the only thins Catra was better at than Adora: climbing. Catra could climb forever, up higher and faster than Adora ever could, reaching up into the clear air above the perpetual smog of the Fright Zone.

     Then Adora falls. Probably loses her grip on one of the bars and goes tumbling back to the floor. Catra tries to call out her name but no sound comes out of her mouth.

     Catra scrambles down, desperately trying to get to her best friend as fast as she can. She seems to be moving in slow motion, no matter how fast she wills her body to move.

     By the time she reaches the bottom, Shadow Weaver is standing over Adora. Adora is curled up at her feet, clutching her arm, but looking more like a pet than a human.

     Shadow Weaver's shadows snake across the floor, grabbing Catra by the ankles, keeping her from running away before she even has the thought. Catra is paralyzed in fear, waiting for the punishment to come.

     As the shadows start to crawl up her legs, feeling like a billion tiny ants against her fur, Shadow Weaver howls, "Insolent child! Look at what you've done to Adora!"

     Catra tries to protest that it's not her fault, but nothing comes out. The clinging shadows reach her chest, and continue upwards.

     "You will pay for being useless, worthless, an annoyance," Shadow Weaver continues the long list as the shadows reach Catra's face. Catra tries to cry out for help, but the shadows just pour into her mouth and spill down her throat. She tries to breath but the shadows are blocking her throat, her noses, even her eyes as darkness surrounds her.

 

* * *

 

_"CATRA!"_

 

     Catra jolts awake, heaving as she tries to remember how to breathe. The cold night air fills her lungs and reminds her that she's not in the Fright Zone anymore. She's in the infirmary of Half Moon.

     Shire had refused to give her any of the shitty purple liquid that helped Catra sleep. Her exact words were, "this is pretty much pure alcohol, and I don't want you to get addicted, become an alcoholic, destroy your liver, and die a horrible death."

     Catra feels like the horrible death is worth it to not have nightmares.

     "Catra, are you alright?"

     Catra looks to her left and for some fucking reason, Ri'ta is there sitting by Catra's bedside like that’s fucking normal.

     "What the fuck are you doing here?" Catra hisses, not intentionally but she's pretty much panicking right now.

     "Glad to see you still have your wits about you," Ri'ta says. "I'll tell you, but first take a deep breath in and breathe out. It will help calm you down."

     Catra almost debates continuing to hyperventilate just to spite Ri'ta, but she's more curious as to why Ri'ta was here, watching her sleep. She breathes in and breathes out, until her heartbeat slows down and things start to feel real again.

     "There," Ri'ta sighs. "Feel a bit better?"

     "Were you watching me sleep!?" Catra accuses.

     "Technically, yes," Ri'ta admits. "This is the last night Shire wanted to keep you under observation, and I offered to stay up so she could get some sleep."

     Catra gives Ri'ta an uncertain look, "Still kinda creepy."

     "Well, I wasn't even paying that much attention, I was reading until you started to thrash about in your sleep," Ri'ta flashes Catra the cover of the book in her lap. "If that makes it any better." 

     Catra shrugs.

     "So, that was quite the nightmare you were having," Ri'ta points out, though Catra wishes that she wouldn't have dredged it up again. "It took me a bit to get you to wake up. Do you want to talk about it?"

     "Not really," Catra mumbles. Like every other nightmare she's had that reveals some repressed feelings, she saves it for future Catra to deal with. Sadly, Future Catra is usually the Catra that has a similar nightmare the next night, who also decides to put off dealing with it.

     Such is life.

     "Alright," Ri'ta doesn't try to dig in further. "I know everyone deals with nightmares their own way, but if you want to talk, I'll always lend an ear."

     "Okay, whatever," Catra's not entirely sure how to respond to that. Catra's used to repressing any sign of weakness-including nightmares-and bottling it up inside so no one ever knew about it. Or until it exploded, either or. It's bad enough that Ri'ta _saw_ her have a moment of weakness, but she wants to _talk_ about it.

     Catra decides to curl up back onto the covers and try to fall asleep, but it's weird that Ri'ta is besides her. She can hear the turning of the pages in the book, so maybe Ri'ta really is just reading instead of being creepy.

     Catra glances over her shoulder and Ri'ta is actually fully absorbed in the book.

     "What are you even reading?" Catra questions.

     Ri'ta seems surprised that Catra's awake, but she answers, "Just some family history, a recording of important figures in the M’stoff’lls Tribe."

     "What?" Catra questions.

     "Well, remember when we talked about the Council, and I talked about the Tribe structure?" Ri'ta asks. Catra nods, so Ri'ta continues. "Before C'yra the First united the Tribes, they were groups of families who banded together to protect each other or fight other Tribes. After the Great Unification, Tribes became more centralized to families. My tribe, the M’stoff’lls, harks back to before the Great Unification. My ancestors were at the center of many great magical discoveries, so I'm just reading about some of them."

     Catra scrunches her nose, "Wait, how far back does that all go?"

     "Over one-thousands years, at least," Ri'ta answers. "Maybe getting close to two."

     Catra can't even imagine that. Not just how much time that is, but knowing where you came from down to the name of your oldest ancestor. Catra didn't know anything about her past. It sounds like Ri'ta could know everything about her own.

     "So, are there other cats in your tribe? Family? Whatever?" Catra asks.

     Ri'ta give Catra a sad stare before looking down at the book, "None, unless you include C'yra but she hasn't an ounce of magic in her. My mother died almost twenty years ago, now. My father was a mage but not born into the tribe, and he died shortly before I was born, so I had no other siblings and my mother was an only child. It's just me. That's why I decided to not officially join the D'riluths when C'yra and I married, just to keep the tribe going a bit longer."

     "Mh," Catra must be tired, because she finds herself getting sappy for a second, "It kinda sucks being alone like that."

     Ri'ta quirks an eyebrow but the realization dawns on her face, "I imagine it must have been harder for you. Were there any other Magicats in the Horde?"

     Catra wants to sink back into the bed at just the mention of the Horde, and just shakes her head. There may have been lizard people, scorpion princesses, and weird recording demons, but Catra never saw anyone else like her.

     "I can't imagine being isolated like that," Ri'ta admits. "To look around and not see a face like mine. You're much stronger than I."

     "Aw sweet," Catra yawns. Yeah, she's fucking tired.

     "You should close your eyes, you sound like you're tired enough to go to sleep," Ri'ta says. For once, the idea of spite does not surface, so Catra closes her eyes. She hears Ri'ta settles back into her chair and whisper, "Sleep well, kitten." 

 

* * *

 

     It's midday when Catra wakes up the next morning. Shire is studying a book and occasionally scratching down notes on paper, while N'yan is coloring in a book Catra kinda hopes is one of Gus' favorites.

     Shire looks up when Catra sits up with a groan, "Did you sleep well?"

     The first part, definitely not. The nightmare ruined that part of sleep with her. After she talked with Ri'ta? Catra slept as soundly as she did with the shitty grape drug. She's starting to wonder if that 'sleep kitten' thing Ri'ta and C'yra have been saying is some kinda of spell . . . but Ri'ta said that C'yra can't do magic. She'd either let her curiosity overtake her one day and get to the bottom of that saying, or she'd desperately hold onto her apathy about Half Moon to stop getting further and further into the lives of the Queens.

     Though, to answer Shire's question Catra just shrugs and admits, "Eventually."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you like the story, consider leaving a comment!
> 
> Next time: Fun fact about academic books that I learned in college is that no one has ever enjoyed writing or reading an academic paper WHYD YA PUT IT IN A FANFICTION

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! More to come soon, so leave a comment if you want to vitalize the writing spirit within me!


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